Heartsong
by MutedTone
Summary: He has been waiting for Saya to awaken. Will today be the day?


started: 3/28/2009 10:00 PM

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Standard disclaimers apply. Credits are at the bottom of the page. This is set after the end of the series, so if you haven't seen the last part, don't read this yet!

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It had been hours since any tourists had stopped by to listen, so he decided to pack up the cello and leave the town plaza. Besides, it was almost dusk, and he longed to visit her.  
_Clink, clink,_ went the coins in his left pocket as he paced through the quiet streets of Okinawa. In one of the tiny stored that dotted the sidewalks, an old lady was grilling takoyaki; while an ancient, beaten-up radio beside her crackled,"_We're well into the Okinawan summer, folks! Humid days and rainy nights ahead...._"  
With his normal hand, he took out the coins from his pocket and counted them carefully. He might have to take a room tonight if the rain were too strong. But the tourists had been generous today; he would have enough money left over to buy her flowers.  
Most of the wandering hawkers were gone before sunset, but luckily he found a flower seller near the park. But the girl didn't have roses, just azaleas. Sensing that she was eager to dispose of her wares and go home, he haggled for an extra few blooms.  
Night was falling. As he cradled the fragile azaleas in one arm, cello in another, he could barely keep from running, hurrying to the place where Saya was. Would she be expecting him, or would she be surprised?  
As he neared the stone steps, he suddenly gasped. A pulse-like vibration was in the air. Was it Saya? A throb in his chest responded to the invisible, steady beat. Finally he reached the top of the steps, filled with nervous anticipation.  
Would she be standing there? How long would her hair have grown during her sleep? Would she remember who he was?

_Come into these arms again and lay your body down  
The rhythm of this trembling heart is beating like a drum  
It beats for you  
It bleeds for you  
It knows not how it sounds  
For it is the drum of drums  
It is the song of songs_

She was not there.  
"Saya?" he called out, looking around the nooks and crannies of the Miyagusuku family tomb, his eyes adjusting to the shadows. "Saya?" It was almost a plea.  
Still she did not appear. There was only the faint pulsating vibration. He entered the tomb hesitantly, for he already knew the truth; but he had to confirm it with his own eyes.  
The giant cocoon shimmered with a reddish-pink light, contracting and expanding, like an eerie heart in the midst of the darkness. The pulsing beat he has sensed outside was stronger here. With his claw-like hand, he reached out and touched the cocoon. It was warm with life.  
"Saya," he said again, but now his voice was a mix of hope and sadness as reality crushed his spirit, "So you are still sleeping."

_Once I had the rarest rose  
That ever deigned to bloom  
But cruel winter chilled the bud  
And stole my flower too soon_

Slowly, carefully, he placed the azalea bunch at the cocoon's foot. He could feel disappointment cutting into his chest. It had been thirty years, surely...or would it take longer for her to recover as the decades passed? He picked up his cello and tried to sigh away the pain as he tore his gaze away from the pinkish light.  
He reached the tomb's entrance and found that a drizzle of rain had started. He had been here so many times, it was almost like a religion. But exactly how many times, he didn't know; he didn't count, and, as it seemed, it didn't matter. He looked up, grateful for the sound of water that cloaked his cry of despair.

_Oh loneliness, oh hopelessness  
To search the ends of time  
For there is in all the world  
No greater love than mine_

"Why won't you wake up, Saya?" he shouted at the dark, wet night. "Please, I want to see your face! Please...Saya...." He fell into a crumpled heap beside his cello case, not knowing or caring if the dampness on his face was from tears or rain.

_Love, oh love  
Still falls the rain  
Still falls the night_

The drizzle had ended, leaving only the gentle sounds of raindrops trickling off branches; and the croaking of frogs who drew relief from the summer rain.  
He lifted his face from where he was huddled, his back against the tomb's outer wall. His body felt heavy from the weeping. "I can't move anymore, Saya," he whispered into the night, closing his eyes. "I want to stay here and sleep beside you."  
Yes, sleep away the waiting, and the longing. A world without her was not worth opening his eyes to.

_Damned forever_

A faint giggle emanated from within the tomb, or perhaps it was from his mind. _Still such a child_, said Saya's voice, half-scolding, half-teasing. _Still making sulky faces!_  
"I long for you, Saya," he mumbled, still asleep. "This pain is unbearable, and I wonder if I'll last."  
_Of course I know. Don't you think I know?_ He could almost see her face, the mouth set in a stubborn line. _You are waiting for me. Don't you think I wait for you too? For the day I'll be fully awake?_  
His eyes snapped open. Slowly, he sat up, his mind a little hazy from sleep. The night sky had cleared, and the stars were twinkling. He looked around.

_Let me be the only one to keep you from the cold  
Now the floor of heaven is laid with stars of brightest gold  
They shine for you  
They shine for you  
They burn for all to see_

He could sense the vibration in the air once more, and with it, her voice.  
_Haji, won't you play me a song? The one I taught you long ago, when we couldn't go outside because it was raining too hard._  
He turned his face towards the tomb entrance, towards an existence he could almost see and touch. "You know I would do anything you wish, Saya. And...I have always played, everywhere, as though you were there to hear me."  
_One day, I'll be standing in that crowd, listening._  
As the echo of her words ebbed away, he was strong enough to move again, his hands opening the cello case....

_Come into these arms again  
And set this spirit free_

The last remaining raindrops dripped gently from the trees surrounding the tomb. Nocturnal birds popped out from their shelters, and craned their necks.  
The strains of a Bach prelude wafted through the cool summer night.

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ended: 7/25/2009 11:38 PM  
Song is "Love Song for a Vampire" by Annie Lennox.


End file.
